The Newsletter
by Allie6
Summary: Hoshi and the dreaded newsletter
1. Prologue

Title: The Newsletter 

Author: Allie 

Disclaimers: Enterprise and Star Trek is the property of Paramount. Use of characters and subject matter is done for entertainment only and no profit is being made off of said use. 

Rating: PG13 (slight swearing/suggestive themes) 

Category: Humor/challenge 

Codes: very slight Tu/S, ALL 

Spoilers: Slight for a few Season 2 shows. Set before The Expanse. 

Summary: Hoshi and the dreaded newsletter. 

Author's Note: Beta is the wonderful Chele who did a great job pruning out the newsies elements. This was from a challenge at the Linguistics Database.

PROLOGUE 

T'Pol stood outside Captain Archer's ready room and paused a second before entering. 

Archer's strangled "come" sounded strange even for a human. 

"Do you require assistance, Captain?" T'Pol asked calmly, watching him bang his head hard on the desk. 

"I have a headache," Archer said simply, banging his head a couple more times for good measure. 

"That would be the logical result of banging ones head against a hard surface. Perhaps I should call Dr. Phlox?" 

Archer gave a weak laugh and waved T'Pol over to sit down. 

"Starfleet's newest order is what gave me the headache," he said. "The head banging was just my response to it. The only one I could think of that wouldn't get me court-martialed." 

T'Pol raised one of her infamous eyebrows. 

"What type of order would call for such an emotionally violent response?" 

Archer looked back at the view screen, hoping the words would be different this time. No such luck. 

"Admiral Tarken is apparently quite a history buff. He read about a 20th century thing called a newsletter and wants Enterprise to try one as a 'morale boosting' exercise," he said, a pained-expression on his face. "The first warp-five starship and he wants us to ask our crew: If they were a tree, what tree would they be?" 

If a Vulcan could look worried, T'Pol did. 

"You are not going to write it yourself, Captain?" she asked, remembering what happened the last time Archer was asked to write anything other than a standard report. 

He shook his head. 

"No. But who will? No offense, but people would be falling asleep if you did it. 

"Malcolm? He would be asking everyone what their favorite explosion was. 

"And Travis? I can barely make out his basic reports. He can fly, but writing is definitely not his forte. 

"Then there's Trip ...." Archer's voice trailed off as a bitter look crossed over his face. "He needs to stick with his engines." 

T'Pol spoke next in agreement. 

"Dr. Phlox also would not be a logical choice as he prefers to observe interactions," 

She tilted her head slightly and continued. "Ensign Sato, although, appears to be the correct choice ...." 

"Hoshi is perfect!" he exclaimed, jumping up and banging his knee painfully against the desk that had taken the brunt of his frustration just a few minutes ago. "Who could resist those big brown eyes? And this stretch of space is a bit boring. All she really could do now is fiddle with the UT and brush up on her Klingon." 

A maniacal light shone from Archer's eyes as he hit the comm pad. 

"Ensign Sato, could you come to my ready room, please?" 


	2. Getting the news

CHAPTER 1 

Hoshi kept the pleasant look plastered on her face just long enough for her cabin door to close. 

"Arg," she said, pausing only to take a deep breath, trying again with "Arrrrgggggggg!" 

She ripped off her uniform and wadded it into a ball before throwing it on her bunk. 

On came her comfort clothes -- red T-shirt and baggy red shorts, nicely faded; bunny slippers, pink and fluffy; and the piece de resistance, her stuffed friend, Sluggo, clutched against her chest. 

"Computer: Sato personal log. 

"I graduated second in my class. I speak 40 languages and am responsible for field testing a piece of equipment that is as important to Earth's space exploration as the captain's precious warp-five engine. 

"And what does he have me do? Work on the UT? Study up on some of the newer languages?" 

Hoshi held Sluggo up to her face, shaking the stuffed animal for emphasis as she paced from one end of her cabin to the next. 

"No. He has _me_ do a ship-wide newsletter! A friggin' newsletter!! Something that usually goes to the most useless person. And he expects _me_ to believe that this is just as important as my job, like 'learning the language of possibly hostile aliens,' he says." 

Hoshi paused in her pacing and rambling, remembering the pained look on Archer's face as she threatened to write the newsletter in Klingon. 

_It sure was fun to make him beg,_ she thought to herself. 

"I have to do this because Starfleet wants it done. Fine. But just because the captain doesn't want to do this doesn't mean he gets off scott-free. 

"Oh, no. It took a while, but I am getting paid for this. 

"_My_ choice of dessert once a month for a year, 15 minutes extra shower time once a week for a year," she grinned to herself as she continued, "_and_ I get to pick the showing for movie night once a month for a year. Oh, is Trip gonna choke on his pecan pie." She giggled. 

"Now I have to work on the damn thing. Computer, end recording." 

Flopping down on her bunk, Hoshi took out a PADD and got down to business. Surprisingly, T'Pol had volunteered to be the first one interviewed. 

"I see no reason why this should be prolonged. The sooner it is done, the sooner we can all get back to more logical tasks," Hoshi remembered the sub-commander saying as she briefly looked over at Archer. 

"Now, let's see," she began, placing her finger against the side of her mouth. 

"Nickname, such an obvious question. Hmm...most embarrassing moment on the ship. That should be a good one...especially for Trip," she chuckled. 

"Ah, maybe have them say what the most surprising thing about them is." 

Chewing on her lower lip for a moment, Hoshi considered trying to talk them into describing their idea of a perfect mate. 

She lifted her hands in exasperation. "Great! I can also turn this into the Enterprise dating service. Maybe include cheesecake photos of the senior staff." 

Laughing quietly as she tossed the PADD down beside her, Hoshi closed her eyes and thought of all the different types of cheesecake waiting for her to eat. 


	3. The game begins

CHAPTER 2 

Hoshi laughed softly to herself, something she was doing more often, as she looked over her first two interviews. 

She was the only one in the dining room at this hour of the night. Slumping down in her chair, she took small sips of her steaming tea as she continued to read, enjoying the solitude. 

"Funny that the two most humane reactions to my interview were from the only aliens on board," she muttered. 

T'Pol and Dr. Phlox had immediately answered her questions, the doctor with an enthusiasm that was somewhat startling. 

"Ensign Sato, what an intriguing way to take part in a human experience," Phlox had said as he continued to feed his multitude of medicinal animals. "Of course, you may ask away." 

Phlox's most embarrassing moment, of course, was when he tried to give poor Travis a lobotomy. 

"Really troubling that was for me," he said, and then laughed as he continued, "but how Ensign Mayweather avoided me for weeks afterward really made it rather humorous." 

Hoshi didn't want to think much about his nickname, which roughly translated into English as "flexible tongued-devil." 

Hoshi cringed to herself, remembering the look in Phlox's eyes as he waited for her reaction. The man had such a twisted sense of humor. It was one of the reasons why she was so fond of him ... _perhaps_. He was so different from her father. 

"Enough of that, back to business," she scolded herself, going back to her first interview: Sub-Commander T'Pol. 

The Vulcan answered each question succinctly, only pausing slightly at some of her more silly questions. 

"At least I now know what body part I'm most jealous of," Hoshi said with a laugh. "T'Pol can say more with one lift of an eyebrow than most people can with words." 

She was surprised at how candid T'Pol was, and was more and more coming to appreciate her dry sense of humor. 

"I have two answers to your question of what is the most surprising thing the crew could learn about me," T'Pol had told Hoshi solemnly. "I leave it to your discretion to decide which to use. 

"When I was on Earth I developed, I suppose you would call it a fondness for saltwater taffy," she said, lifting her right eyebrow a tad. "A Vulcan delicacy, it is not." 

T'Pol linked her fingers together, glancing down at them briefly before looking back up at Hoshi. 

"The second: I believe that the Vulcan High Command has erred in its dealings with humans," she said in an even tone, ignoring HoshiÕs dropping of her PADD that soon followed. 

"By commanding and treating humans like children, we have caused you to strike out in protest. Our desire for caution had led to some reckless behavior that might have been avoided with a more even-handed approach." 

T'Pol inclined her head at Hoshi before getting up to leave the ensign's quarters. 

Coming back to the present, Hoshi scrolled down to her list of remaining victims: Travis, Malcolm, Trip and Jon. 

She had special plans for the remaining four men, each of whom had "all of a sudden" become awfully busy. 

"Try to duck me, will they? The Captain gives me this assignment and then expects to duck out on taking part?" Hoshi asked the empty room as she grinned evilly before drinking the last bit of her tea. "They will learn not to mess with this linguist again. Oh, yes they will." 


	4. Tracking Travis

CHAPTER 3 

Hoshi burst though the door, grabbed Sluggo off her bed and started dancing around her cabin. 

"_I got Travis, I got Travis, I got Travis,_" she chanted in a singsong voice before flopping down on her bed. 

"Computer: Sato personal log. 

"Travis decided to get back at me for the Jell-O incident by playing hard-to-get. He thought he was being _so_ clever with his excuses. But flyboy got his." 

Hoshi held up Sluggo, her main confidant, and indulged in a little bragging. 

"First, he claimed he forgot our appointment. Next it was canceled because he was _sick_. Then he asked for the questions in writing, which naturally got lost. 

"It was when he claimed I sent the second set of questions in Klingon that I declared war. Never mess with a woman who can swear at you in 40 different languages." 

Remembering back on the delicious unfolding of Travis' demise, Hoshi had to chuckle to herself. She really had been a bit mean. 

Travis had been sitting at a table, eating lunch and reading his new novel. Or at least trying to read it. 

"Travis, dear, whatever is the matter?" Hoshi had asked sweetly as she took a seat across from him and sat down her salad. 

Travis had shook his head and gestured at his PADD. 

"Damn think put my new book in Klingon. Third time that's happened today," he had complained to Hoshi, looking up at her in frustration. 

Hoshi batted her eyelashes at him in mock-sympathy. 

"Oh, poor baby. Just like what happened to my list of questions I sent to you," she remembered telling him, before taking her first bite. 

Travis had looked at her a bit suspiciously before giving up on his book completely, and instead filling her in on the latest bit of gossip. 

"But putting his books in Klingon was only my first volley. He wasn't ready to give in ... _yet_" 

Hoshi gave Sluggo a quick squeeze as the present faded back to the delicious past. 

The next day a harried-looking Travis had barely made it to the briefing on time, earning him a reproachful look from the captain. 

Travis had had Trip cornered as soon as the briefing was over, she remembered. Some frustrated mumbling and shrugging of shoulders followed. 

Hoshi had waited until the commander left before wandering over to poor, dear Travis. 

"More problems?" she had asked him. 

Travis had nodded in response. 

"First thing this morning I order coffee and I get Klingon blood wine," he grimaced. "Then the briefing notice was written in Klingon and the computer wouldn't translate the damn thing for me. Had to get out a Klingon dictionary to make heads-or-tails out of it. Almost made me late." 

"Sounds like the problem is spreading," Hoshi had said with a straight face. "Better check all your books and reports just to make sure." 

A light had dawned in Travis' eyes, and then an appreciative grin spread across his handsome face. 

"He didn't mess with me anymore. Answered all my questions in record time. Now I have three down. Halfway finished. 

"Computer: Pause recording." 

Hoshi picked up her PADD beside her bed and glanced over Travis' answers. Who would have guessed he got seasick? What she _could_ have guessed was his nickame: Superman. Kid used to drive his family crazy by making everything he could get his hands on into a ship so he could be a pilot like his father. 

Hoshi stopped smiling when she scrolled down to the name of the next victim on her list: Malcolm. 

"Computer: Resume recording. 

"Malcolm is so frustrating! I still can't get his nickname out of him. 

"But today was really peculiar. I bumped into him while I was headed to the gym, and could have sworn he came from the direction of hydroponics." 

Hoshi remembered back to her brief exchange with the frustrating Brit. 

"Good morning, Lieutenant," Hoshi had greeted him friendly enough for someone who was making her life difficult. 

"Oh," he had replied, a short answer even for the sometimes-abrupt armory officer. 

"Hmm...seems to have that deer-caught-in-the-headlights look," I thought to myself. 

"Where are you headed off to?" I asked him. 

"Ah...nowhere," he blurted out and then he just passed me by, like I was of no importance." 

Hoshi shook her head and continued adding to her log. 

"I have a gut feeling he's hiding something from me, something that I know is the answer to part of his questionnaire. 

"Well, Lieutenant Reed, I will find out your little secret, and your nickname." 


	5. Menacing Malcolm

Chapter 4 

Porthos cocked his head to one side as he watched Hoshi rummage through her closet. 

"I know it's in here somewhere," she muttered to herself. "I never had the nerve to return it to him." 

The beagle had contentedly started to lick himself when Hoshi's triumphant "Ah, ha!" startled a bark right out of him. 

"Sorry, boy," Hoshi said as she petted Porthos with her right hand. In her left hand she clutched a Starfleet-issued men's blue T-shirt. 

She stopped petting Porthos and shoved Malcolm's shirt under his nose, encouraging the dog to sniff it thoroughly. 

"Take a deep breath, Porthos," she encouraged. "Then you can help me track down Uncle Malcolm. I saw him leave hydroponics just a few minutes ago." 

Porthos licked the shirt for good measure and then ran over to the door, barking excitedly. 

"That's it, Porthos," Hoshi enthused as she secured the dog's leash. "There'll be some cheese in it for you if you succeed." 

Exiting her quarters, Hoshi took Porthos toward Malcolm's last known location. 

She gave Porthos an encouraging pat as they arrived outside of the hydroponics door. 

As soon as the door slid open, Porthos put his nose to the ground and began to sniff loudly. 

The dog stopped short, barking as they got to a certain section of the room. 

"Roses?" Hoshi asked Porthos. "His secret is roses? Oh, you are so busted, lieutenant." 

*** 

A few hours later, Malcolm arrived at his station on the bridge and looked down to find a single yellow rose with a message attached to it. 

"Target practice, 2000 hours. Don't be late," Malcolm read silently to himself. 

"Bloody hell," he muttered quietly. 

Apparently, the Sub-commander had heard him, because her voice snapped his attention her way. "Is there a problem, Lieutenant?" 

"No, Sub-commander," Malcolm said as he looked back down at his panel and locked his eyes on the display. 

T'Pol merely inclined her head and went back to her data. 

Archer's curiosity, however, was aroused. His armory officer wasn't normally prone to profane outbursts. 

Walking over to Malcolm's station, the captain's eyes were immediately drawn to the rose and note shoved off to one side. 

"Secret admirer, Lieutenant?" he asked the now blushing Brit. 

"No, sir. Merely a reminder for target practice," Malcolm said with a very, very stiff upper lip. 

Archer's voice carried far enough for Travis to hear, and the navigator's head whipped around to look back at his two commanding officers. 

"Is there something you need, Ensign?" Malcolm asked in his most officious voice, although his increasingly reddened face gave away his discomfort. 

"Nope," Travis grinned and turned back around, thinking happily of this newest piece of gossip he had to share. 

*** 

"Computer: Sato personal log. 

"Well, Malcolm has been crossed off the list. Turns out his big, bad secret is that he loves to grow roses. Frankly, it's a perfect choice for him; an attractive flower with its own defense system built right in." 

Hoshi sat down on her bunk and looked up at Sluggo sitting on the desk next to her with a yellow rose lying in front of him. 

"Malcolm was afraid the newsletter would make him look silly, make fun of his job or something. It's supposed to be fun, not mocking, and I promised him Starfleet would not kick him out of the service after reading it." 

Hoshi thought back to her cornering the armory officer on the target range. 

"Lieutenant Reed, thank you for arriving on time," she had purred as she saw Malcolm walk stiffly toward her. 

"Yes, Ensign Sato?" he had asked formally before giving in to the delightedly proud look on her face. 

"All right, Hoshi. You win," he had admitted in response to what he saw as the rather smug look on her face. "Just please, no more roses. Travis has everyone thinking I have a secret lover on board. The git probably has a betting pool by now." 

Hoshi had had a tough time getting one piece of information out of the reticent lieutenant. Malcolm had all but refused to give up one piece of information: his nickname. 

"Lieutenant, I'm about ready to use you for target practice," Hoshi had told Malcolm, only half joking. 

Hoshi stood still and her mouth twitched into a devilish smile, knowing full well he was finally going to give in. 

"But I would appreciate it if you didn't use my old nickname in the newsletter. Commander Tucker is the only other person to know it and I was drunk at the time," Malcolm had told her. 

"It turned out that "Stinky" was the rather embarrassing nickname he had been given during his Public School days in England. 

"His most embarrassing moment?" Hoshi continued. "Now, that took him a while to whittle down." 

Malcolm had grimaced when Hoshi came to the most embarrassing moment on the ship. 

"There have been many, unfortunately," he had said. "But as a whole, I would say Captain Archer is the answer." 

Smiling slightly at Hoshi's confused expression, Malcolm continued. 

"Damn man should have a bell around his neck as he's gotten kidnapped so often," he deadpanned. "I think I have already set a record for the number of rescues in a year in Starfleet." 

Hoshi shook her head and smiled as she brought herself back to the present. 

"Dear, dear, Captain Archer. I will enjoy finally pinning you and finding out what you have to hide," she said. "But next on my list is Trip. Computer: End recording." 

Hoshi frowned slightly as she got up to get something to eat. Trip had not been himself lately. Withdrawn, almost. The suicide and his best friend's resulting anger had left a lasting effect on the usually jovial chief engineer. 

Admittedly, she realized this was one interview she was not looking forward to. 


	6. Traping Trip

Chapter 5 

"Computer: Sato, personal log. 

"Well, I finally cornered Commander Tucker in engineering and got him to agree to let me ask him the damn questions. I'm beginning to get a complex with how many men run away when they see me coming. 

"He was acting kind of weird, though. Refused to meet me anywhere private and insisted on a public space. We settled on the dining room after his shift. Should be quiet at that time of the night, anyway. 

"End personal log." 

Hoshi finished getting ready for her shift, still caught up with worrying about the engineer's continued odd behavior. 

"Oh, well. Guess I'll find out a little more tonight," she mumbled to herself as she left her cabin for the bridge, hoping that in those several hours, something interesting would happen. 

*** 

Hoshi's target had already secured a table and two cups of coffee by the time she arrived. While he had a smile on his face, that familiar twinkle in Trip Tucker's eyes was missing. 

"Thanks for the coffee," she said as she sat down opposite him. "Sorry I'm a little late." 

"S'okay, Hoshi," Trip said as he shrugged his shoulders. "Ya sure the cap'n wants me to be part of this?" 

Hoshi blinked a few times in surprise. Now where did that come from, she wondered to herself. 

"He said the entire senior staff, Trip," she said out loud. "Why wouldn't he want his chief engineer to be included?" 

Trip looked down at his still-steaming cup of coffee. 

"Maybe because I'm a freak o' medical history, an intergalactic whore and a murderer to boot," he said bitterly. 

Hoshi immediately splattered her coffee across the table, choking furiously. 

"Ya okay, Hoshi?" Trip asked with a concerned frown on his face. 

Hoshi waved her hand, coughed a few more times and nodded. 

"I'm fine, Trip. But next time warn me when you're about to say something so idiotic," she said a bit angrily. 

Sponging off the table and herself, Hoshi continued before Trip could get a word in, edgewise. 

"I understand being the first human male to get pregnant is embarrassing. I even understand the teasing you get for your friendly ways with aliens of the opposite sex," she ticked off. "But where in the hell do you get that you are a murderer?" 

Trip let go of his coffee cup and looked at his hands. 

"Just cause ya can't see blood don't mean I didn't cause someone's death," he whispered. 

The commander was more than just scaring Hoshi now, he was pissing her off. 

"**Knock. It. Off.**" she hissed, slapping her palm against the table with each word. "Yes, you screwed up. Yes, it's awful the congenitor killed itself. Yes, you were a bonehead to interfere and not listen to T'Pol and Phlox's advice. 

"But for god sake, Trip. You didn't kill it. It could have fought but chose not to," Hoshi said, lowering her voice as heads started to turn in their direction. "Wallowing isn't going to bring it back. You want to do something? Learn from this. Make damn sure you don't think you know it all." 

Taking a deep breath before continuing, Hoshi couldn't help but smile a bit at the shocked commander. 

"You're a man, Trip. You make mistakes and learn from them. _That's _why we're out here." 

Trip shook his head and gave Hoshi a small smile. He covered one of her hands with his own and looked her deep in the eyes. 

"Coming from someone as special as you, that is quite a compliment," he said, suddenly snatching his hand away when she looked down at it. "But then, maybe you think everyone is a special as you. They aren't, Hoshi. But thanks just the same." 

She changed the subject and got back to the task at hand, hoping she wasn't blushing from the commander's comments. 

*** 

Hoshi slowly walked back to her cabin, confusion and worry vying for prominence in her mind. 

"Computer: Sato personal log," she said as soon as the door slid shut behind her. 

"I found out what was bothering Commander Tucker and managed to get him to answer the questions. 

"Never would have guessed the nickname he gave me. He said that Trip didn't count because it's what everyone calls him. So he shared one from his childhood," she chuckled. "Upchuck, in honor of the time he took part in a pie eating contest and won only to throw up everything into the lap of his then-girlfriend. 

"I should have known that pecan pie would be involved somehow," Hoshi added, and then sobered a bit. "But I am still worried about how hard he is taking everything. I hope nothing else bad happens to him in the near future. I don't think he could stand it." 

She shook her head as if trying to shake her bad mood with it. 

"But now I can concentrate on Captain Archer. I am going to pin him down and ring out every bit of embarrassing information out of him. 

"Computer: End personal log." 

Hoshi flopped down on her bunk, gazing up at the ceiling. She was also worried about herself. When Trip had covered her hand with his, it had felt so..._good_. At that moment, all she wanted to do was kiss his frown away. 

"Now where in the hell did that come from?" she asked herself. "And why do I get the feeling that I'm not the only one thinking these thoughts." 

Jumping up from the bed, she grabbed her workout clothes from the nearby dresser. 

_When in doubt, sweat it out. And think of evil questions to ask a certain captain_. 


	7. Aiming for Archer

Chapter 6 

"Captain, may I have a word with you in your ready room," T'Pol asked Archer just before his shift came to an end. 

"Lead the way," he said, sweeping his hand toward the door. 

Archer's good humor vanished the second the door swished closed behind him. Sitting at the table was a very cranky linguist. 

"It is illogical to keep Ensign Sato from completing the assignment that you gave her," the Sub-commander said in response to the betrayed look flung her way. 

"I have cleared your schedule enough to allow a 45-minute session with the ensign starting at 1915 hours," she continued. "Once she is allowed to finish this experiment for Starfleet, she will be able to continue increasing the efficiency of the Universal Translator." 

Archer looked ready to argue, but faced with a smug Vulcan and a ready-to-attack human, he reluctantly gave in. 

"I suppose we can meet at my quarters. At least Porthos will enjoy the session," he grumbled, turning on his heels and walking out of the room without saying another word. 

"T'Pol, you are my hero," Hoshi said as she got up to follow her last interviewee out the door. 

"Captain Archer was being illogical about this situation, even for a human," the Vulcan replied. "But I believe the correct answer is, 'You are welcome.'" 

*** 

Hoshi arrived outside of Archer's door 10 minutes early. Sure enough, the guilty-looking man was just making a hasty exit. 

"Uh, Hoshi. You're early," he said, tugging a reluctant-looking beagle out the door with him. 

Giving him a glare that had taken the fight out of many other men, Hoshi drummed her fingers against her hip. 

"Going somewhere," she asked sweetly. 

Archer gulped. 

"Just a quick errand to run," he said in a rush. 

Hoshi held out her hand for Porthos' leash. 

'Why don't I watch Porthos for you, then? You know how he tends to want to play and scamper about," she said quietly but with a deadly gleam in her eyes. "You wouldn't want him to make you late, now would you?" 

Porthos looked happily on as the two humans faced off. Master smelled scared, but the nice lady smelled strong. Knowing who to kiss up to, the dog eagerly scampered over to Hoshi and jumped up for a kiss. 

"Traitor," Archer muttered as he handed over the leash, thinking how close he was to running from a date he would rather not keep. 

*** 

Porthos happily chased after the ball Hoshi threw against the wall for the hundredth time. 

"_Quick errand,_ he said. _Be right back,_ he said," Hoshi complained to Porthos. "Would serve him right if I talked to his mother and got her to answer my questions." 

The Beagle trotted back to Hoshi and laid the soggy ball in her lap. 

"Hey, boy. How would you like to help your Aunt Hoshi? Do you know anything secret about your master?" she asked as she gingerly put the dripping ball on Archer's pillow. 

Barking excitedly, Porthos ran over to the other side of his master's bunk and began tugging at a blue satchel nearby. Dragging it over to Hoshi, the dog nosed it up against her leg and sat down with a satisfied "Woof." 

Torn between not wanting to snoop and wanting to get back at the man who had kept her waiting 20 minutes so far, Hoshi decided to give in to temptation. 

She opened the bag and pulled out ... yarn? 

"What the ....." she mumbled as she reached in and pulled out two long and skinny sticks. 

"Oh my god," she said in surprise. "The macho-man knits!" 

Hoshi pulled out what looked like an almost finished doggie sweater. She held the red garment up against Porthos' fur. 

"He has a good sense of color color, too," she said before giving Porthos a delighted hug. "Maybe it's a good idea to get some help for this." 

***** 

Archer decided a half-hour would be just enough time for Hoshi to realize she would be better off skipping him in the newsletter. 

Whistling softly, he opened his door to find Hoshi at his computer, happily talking to someone. 

"The other kids called him Piglet because of his favorite pink sweater," he heard a familiar voice call out. "He would wear it for days at a time." 

"Mom, what are you telling her? " he yelled as he ran over to Hoshi's side. 

He looked at his mother's stern face and realized he would get no sympathy from her, either. 

"Jonny Archer, how dare you keep this sweet girl waiting! I raised you better than this," she scolded. "You are just lucky that I didn't have time to pull out your baby pictures, especially the one with you peeing on our new, white rug." 

Archer groaned. He was dead meat. Visions of Trip and Travis making snorting sounds swam before him. 

"I need a drink," he said to the ceiling. 

"Fine. You just do that and let me finish my conversation with Ms. Sato. And that reminds me, Hoshi. You should have seen Jonny the first time he had too much to drink..." 


	8. Turning the tables

Chapter 7 

Travis scanned the crowded mess hall, nodded and motioned for the rest of his group to follow him. 

Weaving through the mass of eating, talking and laughing Enterprise crewmembers, he navigated the male portion of the senior staff to where she was sitting. 

"Enjoying that large slice of cheesecake, Hoshi?" Travis asked sweetly as the captain, lieutenant and commander looked on. 

"Uh, yes. Nice to be able to relax for a change," Hoshi said nervously, her gaze grazing over Archer, Malcolm, Trip and Travis before making its way back to her dessert. 

"Ya know, Hoshi, we were just talking 'bout this newsletter of yours," Trip said, sounding more like his old self ... something that let off warning bells in Hoshi's head. 

"And we discovered something very interesting, _Ensign_," Malcolm continued. 

"I believe you said the _entire_ senior staff was to be included," Archer finished for the quartet. "Now, if I am not mistaken, you are the head of communications on Enterprise, are you not?" 

Hoshi swallowed the suddenly tasteless piece of cheesecake she had just started to eat. 

"Now wait a minute," she protested as she stood up from the table. 

"Going somewhere, Hoshi?" Travis asked sweetly as he came up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder. 

"This will take just a minute, darlin'" Trip said as he moved to stand on the other side of her. 

Malcolm produced a PADD from behind his back and placed it on the table. 

Archer said down, motioned for everyone else to follow suit, and grinned like Dr. Phlox would when learning of a new disease he gets to study. 

"Nickname, Ensign Sato?" he said, reveling in his chance for revenge. 

Hoshi couldn't help but give them all a rueful grin. 

"Fine, I'll play along," she grumbled good-naturedly. "But you guys are getting off easy." 

"Nickname?" prompted Travis. 

Hoshi mumbled something. 

"I can't hear you," Malcolm said in clipped tones, his goofy grin giving away his amusement. 

"Fine, it's Motor Mouth," she said reluctantly. "My mother would tease that I was the only kid she knew who would ramble in a dozen different languages and yet not say a thing." 

"Most embarrassing moment?" Archer jumped in. Hoshi sighed. They were enjoying this _way_ too much. 

"Shirt. Malcolm. Need I say more?" she admitted and then brightened, causing the four men to exchange confused looks. 

Hoshi just motioned for them to continue. 

_We'll see who gets the last laugh_, she thought to herself. _I still have time to make certain adjustments to this thing._


	9. Epilogue

Epilogue 

T'Pol stood outside Captain Archer's ready room and paused a second before entering. 

Archer's strangled "come" sounded strange even for a human, but a bit familiar to her sensitive hearing. 

If anything, the Vulcan's posture became even straighter as if she was steeling herself for what was to come. 

"Another newsletter request, Captain?" T'Pol asked calmly, watching him bang his head hard on the desk. She made a mental note to herself to requisition bumper guards for Archer. 

"I have a headache," Archer said simply, banging his head a couple more times for good measure. He laughed at the look T'Pol gave him and answered her question. 

"No, not that, thank god," he said, then frowned as he looked at the communique in front of him. "Let's just say the newsletter is again a thing of the past." 

T'Pol walked slowly over to the chair facing opposite a red-faced Archer. 

"Hoshi's offering was a dismal failure," he added. 

T'Pol's right eyebrow made a slight jump. 

"Starfleet was not pleased?" she asked. "The stated goal was to improve morale. By my calculations, productivity increased 2.5 percent and visits to sickbay decreased 3.76 percent after the newsletter was posted." 

Archer nodded his head yes, then immediately switched to no, causing him to wince slightly at the pain both motions caused. 

"It didn't please the most important person, Admiral Tarken," he mumbled. "Apparently it wasn't 'dignified' enough to represent Starfleet. 

"But then how could a picture of a captain peeing on a carpet in his youth be considered 'dignified," Archer asked ruefully, "or a Starfleet-wide publication being written by a dog?" 

This time, T'Pol's left eyebrow shot up. 

"To be honest, Captain, Porthos is the first dog to be on Starfleet's first warp-five starship," she argued. "And he does belong to Earth's first warp-five starship captain." 

The look Archer shot T'Pol was deadly. 

"**YOU** can say that," he said accusingly. "And how did you and Phlox manage to get the only non-embarrassing photos in the newsletter?" 

That earned Archer the double eyebrow raise. 

"One must do an embarrassing act before one can have a picture taken of it," she said calmly. 

Archer looked on disbelievingly. 

"One must also be willing to assist the author of the newsletter instead of impeding her completion of the requested assignment," T'Pol finished. 

The captain gave his science officer a weak smile. 

"Don't look so smug, Sub-commander," he said. "Admiral Tarken has a new idea." 

If a Vulcan could look worried, T'Pol did. Again. 

"Seems to be he has read about an idea to reward the crew for its efforts and create healthy competition, something called _certificates_..." 

*****


End file.
